


Love Talk

by cafedeluna (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Doyoung is really an angel, Fluff, JohnJae as Taeyong’s bestfriends, M/M, Mention of Making Out, Sappy Content, Unbeta’d sorry, drunk Taeyong is the cutest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cafedeluna
Summary: It was really not in Taeyong’s plans to get dragged by his best friends to some club and even more so to him finding himself on someone else’s bed the morning after.“How do you like your egg?”“Dude, I don’t even know you.”Thankfully, Doyoung was such an angel that Taeyong forgets his embarrassment and finally remembers the night that brought him to Kim Doyoung.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 12
Kudos: 200





	Love Talk

**Author's Note:**

> hello, here’s a little dotae fluff. heavily inspired by WayV’s Love Talk; _**‘tell me how you like it babe, I don’t even know your name’**_ — who said I can’t make a domestic fluff out of that line. I hope you enjoy this sappy piece of sap.

Taeyong was sure, a hundred percent sure, that he saw Johnny’s traitorous back retreat with an arm slung over Jaehyun’s traitorous shoulders, leaving him on his own in some corner of the club that the two have brought— no, dragged him to. Only to be left by the same people. 

They said it was “best friend’s duty” to take him out, let him unwind after the fact that he’s been drowning in self-pity and bitterness after a bad break-up with his ex-boyfriend. Although, Taeyong have firmly disagreed with them, saying that he’s pretty much good at where he is— with no one to be linked to, live freely.

“Yong, no amount of cookies can make you forget that you’ve been single for two years now!” Johnny have said to him when the tall guy was raiding Taeyong’s closet, in the hopes of finding an outfit other than his tracksuits and hoodies and sweatpants. What can he do, the perks of being a webtoon artist is having a wide collection of comfy clothes, having no need to dress up for work. 

Despite his objections, the Chicago-raised boy was able to put Taeyong in a pair of black ripped jeans (“I own that?” Taeyong questioned, more like to himself, as he eyes the clothing that he have not seen for ages.) and a loose white shirt, topped with his trusted black denim jacket. 

“That would do, given your lack of resources— good thing you have your looks.” Jaehyun have greeted the two when they have finally emerged from Taeyong’s apartment and down to the garage basement where Jaehyun waits by his car. 

And without any further roasting of his non-existent love life, Lee Taeyong found himself in a newly opened club that Johnny claimed to be great, saying that he knows the owner from college and have invited him over for the week-long grand opening. 

For the first hour, it was just the music pounding in his ears, with a glass of liquor in his hand that Jaehyun have thrusted to him with a shout over the loud music, “Please! Let loose and have fun! Get laid if you can, hyung! I’m gonna go find Johnny and be with you.” before he sauntered off to where Johnny could be.

So he did— he lets the burn of alcohol engulf his body and nerves until he feels his shoulders relax, the tension of the past two years vanishing as his body revels to the heat of the club. Taeyong slithers his way to the dance floor, not mindful of the two pair of eyes that watches him from the bar. 

“Let’s pray he gets laid tonight!” Johnny shouts over the loud music, body slumped forward to shout the words directly to Jaehyun who nods at him. “Let’s hope so! But seeing him unwind would be enough!” Jaehyun shouts back his answer and Johnny nods in agreement. The taller boy faces his boyfriend, he wraps an arm around the younger’s waist and pulls him flush to his body; they dance in their own bubble while taking turns to sweep their eyes on the dance floor to where their friend is. 

Taeyong on the other hand feels like he have just been reborn. He’s never drank so much before and it seems like he’s making up for the years that he have been completely sober, other than the times he drinks a bottle of soju on his own. He lets his limbs depart from the sides of his body, he rolls his shoulder and feels the tension move away, he swayed his hips to the beat of the music blasting from the speakers. 

He loses himself, his whole body claiming the time for itself. Until he also loses the track of everything that surrounds him— he dances next to someone, a bottle of beer raised over his head while his body moves to the rhythm, sliding up to whoever is next to him in a movement that drives warmth and heat in his body up to his neck and if it wasn’t for the colored lights, Taeyong presumes he is as red as the red lights. 

Johnny and Jaehyun told him to unwind and so he did— with the help of someone who’s a few inches taller than him, who owns a pair of lips that opened his eyes to the wonders of what he has been missing on for the whole time he was holed up in his apartment. He vaguely remembers everything after the point where he is flushed against the man with the sweetest smile on his face, in one corner of the club, dancing in their own rhythm, hands finding their way on each other— and in a quick second, he catches sight of the retreating backs of his friends, unaware of the hidden smirks on their faces— a second that Taeyong waved off when he feels a warm grip on his hips. 

And he really shouldn’t have done so, he should have shouted at Johnny and Jaehyun when he sees them leaving the club. If only Taeyong wasn’t so drunk with alcohol and with the moment of having someone pressed up against him, he would have done so, and only if he did so, he wouldn’t have found himself groaning at the blooming headache when he attempts to rise from the comfort of the bed. 

“Fuck,” the rose haired boy grunts, hands immediately nursing his throbbing head, pressing the heels of his hands on his temples. He feels whites swimming against his closed eyelids, willing them to vanish by emitting a hiss through his gritted teeth and he inhales a good amount of air to soothe the ache— _Wait_ , he pauses and Taeyong takes another whiff before his eyes flew open with alarm at the realization that he is not in his room.

Being the sensitive person that he is, his nose have been so accustomed to his preferences in scents and smell that one whiff of the air around even with his eyes closed, Taeyong would know that he is not where should be— at his apartment not in someone else’s room, dressed in nothing but his boxers.

“Fuck.” Taeyong mutters under his breath, eyes carefully taking in the surroundings while he scouts his brain for some answers, no matter how vague. But thanks to how drunk he was, god knows how much alcohol he have downed at the club, he could remember nothing of what transpired after he sees his best friends leaving the club. Which means that Taeyong could not be in their apartment either. 

Another curse leaves Taeyong’s lips at the idea that he might have slept with someone from that night, so with a quick sweep on his torso, he searches for any signs of marks but found none. 

“Shit.” 

He untangles his legs from the blankets around them, swinging his feet down the bed and was met by the warmth of a carpet that almost made him sigh out loud. 

Whoever the owner of the room is, Taeyong silently thanks them for having the mind to draw the curtains closed, disabling any form of light to creep inside and only leaving the dim lights alight to cater to Taeyong’s still throbbing head and bleary eyes. 

With quick movements, he scours the room for his clothes and puts them on. He pats the pockets of his jacket and finds his phone and wallet safely tucked inside, untouched, with nothing missing except for the power in his phone as it stills in his hand with no sign of functioning.

One quick look at the full-length mirror in the corner of the room tells him that something definitely happened while he was intoxicated. Taeyong brings himself closer to it, squints at his demise and finds it odd that there is no indication of makeup on his face, no hint of smudged eyeliner or the eyeshadow that Johnny stubbornly have put on him. 

Taeyong smells his breath— besides his morning breath and the smell of alcohol that have clung on his clothes, he smells only the faintest smell of alcohol and something mint. 

“Okay, this is weird.” He thought to himself and only at the state of concentration, did he hear the faint sounds coming from outside of the room. 

Thinking that there is no other way out of whatever mess he have put himself in than to face whoever is at the other side of the door, Taeyong takes a deep breathe and silent prayer that he hopes could save him from an impending embarrassment— with his jacket gripped tightly in his hand, he reaches for the doorknob, ready to face the debacle that awaits him.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.” 

And Taeyong swears, he backpedaled at the sight before him. 

A guy ever so graciously crafted by the deities stand before him, adorned with a simple white shirt that hugs his torso, defining the broadness of his shoulders that he thinks could put Johnny’s to shame. 

The guy also owns a pair of warm eyes, a set of pearly white teeth and a pair of lips that— a series of vague memories then flashes before him, too fast and clouded that it was almost impossible to remember each of them.

The guy stood there, eyes examining his visitor whose eyebrows are scrunched up in thought. 

Cute, Doyoung thinks to himself, hips leaning against the cold tile of the island counter in his kitchen. When a minute has passed and Taeyong was still unable to gather his thoughts, Doyoung makes the initiative in his stead.

“I presume you remember nothing from last night,” he mumbles and turns his back to set his attention back to the food that he has been preparing for the past fifteen minutes. Taeyong still does not move nor speak at that, his eyes still trained on the kitchen stool, trying to come up with a thought that would not leave him like a total fool.

Although Taeyong knows that he actually is, so the least he could do is to shake his head as he feels his headache becoming worse with all the thinking. 

The younger guy shakes his head. “No.” He simply answers instead, since he’s really not at his best thinking state. 

A small chuckle erupts from Doyoung, his hand frozen over the ladle that stirs the vegetable on the pan. He tilts his head to the side, casting a look at Taeyong and from Taeyong’s point of view when he finally raises his eyes to look at Doyoung, he was a little startled at the softness of his eyes and the warmth the curls in his chest when Doyoung lets out a small smile on the corners of his lips. 

Well, if he did sleep with the guy, it doesn’t seem so bad, Taeyong thinks. 

“I figured, you were so wasted that you half-fainted on me.” There was a small hint of mischief in Doyoung’s voice but Taeyong has no time to dwell on how it makes him feel lighthearted when he hears the implication of his words.

He shrieked. Not really a good reaction to offer but _literally_ the only reaction he could offer. “Oh my god!” Taeyong groans out loud, if he was in a usual setting, he would have let the dramatic part of his brain to pull him down on the floor, his back hunched over the embarrassment that’s creeping up on his whole being. But he figures that shrieking in the middle of someone else’s kitchen would be enough for the day, so Taeyong opts to cover his face with his hands instead, muffling the words against his palm.

_Definitely adorable_ , Doyoung thinks. He takes a quick look at the said adorable specimen, besides the hints of a bad headache that is clear on his posture, Doyoung spots the faintest color of pink on the other guy’s neck and up to the skin of his face that isn’t covered by his small hands. _Yeah, totally adorable._

No wonder he wasn’t able to hold himself from taking care of someone he barely knows, especially if that someone looks like a kid in the body of a guy that could have magicked his way out of a manga. 

Yuta have always told him how he is so inclined in taking care of others before himself. 

Doyoung stirs the vegetables once more, turns off the stove and brings the pan by the kitchen island and pours it on top of the fried rice. Taeyong’s eyes follows the guy’s movements, from how his covered arms looks so good when he takes care of the food, which by the way makes Taeyong gulp down as he realizes how dry his throat is and how hungry he seems to be. Unconsciously, he licks down on his parched lips, which Doyoung catches and lowly laughs at. 

“Take a seat, I’ll fill you in on what happened while you eat.” Turning back around, he opens the fridge and fishes out a cold bottle of water and slides it to Taeyong who have made himself comfortable on one of the high kitchen stools, his feet dangling just a couple of centimeters from the floor. And it’s taking so much of Doyoung to not coo at the sight. 

Before he does that, he turns back to fridge once more and takes out two eggs and busies himself with preparing the stove and putting the pan back on it. “How do you like your egg?” He mumbles, he watches the oil spread on the flat of the pan and lets it heat for a moment. 

As he hears the guy speak again, Taeyong not-so-subtly chokes on the water that’s soothing his throat, making Doyoung look over wide-eyed and Taeyong stares at him in the same expression. 

The older guy doesn’t know where the shock came from— maybe at the idea of how the domesticity of the whole thing is unnerving him or the fact that the words sounds oddly warm to his ears that it makes his heart jump in want. Taeyong feels it deep down in his chest, beating rapidly against his ribs— it fills his ears that he fears Doyoung must have heard it when they both only look at each other, a gap of silence between them. 

As foggy as his brain is, he speaks hurriedly on what his remaining braincells can conjure for him. “Dude, I don’t even know you.” Taeyong says, he almost closes his eyes at how stupid the words are but Doyoung’s quirked eyebrow tells him to expound on that. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound mean but— I just really— I mean, fuck— I don’t really mind, the egg, I mean. However you want it, I guess?” 

Another laugh escapes from Doyoung, finding the situation, a little too entertaining and endearing. Taeyong is clearly flushed now, he’s sure that he is as pink as his hair or maybe even a darker shade of it. But Doyoung simply waves him off, turning back to the stove and do as he pleases with the egg. “Relax, I’m not gonna strangle you or poison you.” He mutters.

“That’s not—“ Taeyong tries to interject. “I just find this odd and my memory from last night is clearly lost.” 

“No pressure on that really. Just let me finish this and I can walk you through it.” Doyoung answers.

A short silence envelops both of them for a while; Doyoung busy on making sure that the egg yolks doesn’t break and Taeyong drinking all of the water from the bottle, hoping that it would clear his mind enough to remember what transpired the night before. 

The rose haired boy had his eyes on the empty bottle on his hands that he almost topples off the chair when Doyoung pushes the plate of food to his sight. Taeyong mutters a thank you to which Doyoung nodded to before he takes his seat in front of him. 

“The name’s Doyoung, by the way. I’m sure I told you that last night. Forgotten too, I assume?” 

Taeyong meekly nods. “I’m sorry.” He picks the utensils and starts to stir some food into his spoon and Taeyong questions if Doyoung knows his name since it seems like they went through some introduction that night, which Taeyong have forgotten along with the other events. 

“Won’t blame you, as I said you were pretty much wasted.” He chuckles and Taeyong learns to accept that, that he have been a baggage to Doyoung. 

Taeyong takes a bite of the food and lets his head hang at the taste that overwhelms his taste buds. Yeah, definitely another pleasing surge went straight to his heart. He not sure himself if it’s his hangover speaking or he’s just feeling extra soft. 

At the satisfied sound of the smaller man, Doyoung safely assumes that he’s done a good job. Well, he always does. He also takes it as the chance to lean forward, arms braced flat on the surface of the counter top, ready to help the lost boy in tracing his memories. Just by at the thought of it, it almost made him laugh but settles on a repressed smile instead as to not scare his visitor away. 

“Hey, Taeyong?” Doyoung tilts his head, seeking for the other guy’s attention. 

Snapping his eyes through his lashes, Taeyong stares at Doyoung with a look of realization. “You remember my name, great, I feel more stupid now.” He says and hangs his head again, feeling another wave of embarrassment as Doyoung stares at him with those eyes of his that sparkles. 

“Nah, don’t be. Totally fine.” Doyoung waves him off. 

Taeyong really doesn’t know what’s with the situation or with Doyoung— but he just feels himself let go of any restraints in him and lets himself relax even with the unfamiliar person in front of him. Maybe it was just the resignation he feels over the whole situation or the feeling of Doyoung’s presence that makes him unfold. He doesn’t know, so he set the spoon and fork down and places both of his hands on his lap. “Okay, let’s get over it.” He says and braces himself.

Taeyong hears Doyoung chuckle.

He also hears how he got in his current situation. 

It turned out that after getting shitfaced and some dancing and some grinding on random people, Taeyong and Doyoung have found themselves dancing with each other. What started out as a simple dance developed into heated touches and groping, Doyoung relays that they were still able to take a trip to the bar together and resumes back to dancing until they’ve found themselves in some corner, hot breath against each other’s skin. 

Taeyong at least remembers that part because it was the moment when he sees Johnny and Jaehyun flying off— _Ugh, he needs new friends_. He wouldn’t be in this embarrassing situation if he was firm enough on not wanting to go out, but Johnny was an impossible force to resist— also, although he sees his situation quite odd, he’d take it again if it’s Doyoung who sits in front of him. Blinding him with his smile that stretches beautifully when he tells Taeyong of their little moments in the club, that Taeyong furiously blushes at when Doyoung says that they made out quite a bit. 

Doyoung sees Taeyong bite down on his lower lip when he mentions that part, remembers the way how it moved against his own— pliant and seeking. 

“Unfortunately, you passed out on me before anything else could happen.” Doyoung breaks, a smirk forming on his lips when Taeyong stares wide eyed at him. “I know, bad timing, huh?” Doyoung relishes at Taeyong’s blush, finding the color absolutely stunning on him. 

And it doesn’t even end there for Taeyong because as what Doyoung continued to say; he half-fainted on him, mumbling incoherent words at first until Taeyong almost makes the both of them topple on the ground. 

Doyoung really tried to make Taeyong stand up, to tear through his unconsciousness but all he got was Taeyong in a mumbling mess that Doyoung can’t piece together with the loud music around them. So the younger thought of carrying him out of the club, hoping that the cool air will snap Taeyong awake which was very unsuccessful and only resulted to Taeyong being even more slack against Doyoung’s build. 

At first it irked Doyoung, he even thought of leaving Taeyong right there— but the thought was immediately banished when the elder clings on his arm, nuzzling his cheek against the leather of Doyoung’s jacket, making him look like an overgrown baby with how his cheeks are flushed and pressed against Doyoung. Despite being also intoxicated at that time, Doyoung feels a tug in his chest that drove him to take matters in his own hand.

Taeyong mentally slaps himself when he hears that Doyoung tried to make him tell him his address so he could drop him off, but he said that Taeyong simply shook his head at him and thought that it’d be wise to say that his address is a secret. So there goes another unsuccessful attempt of Doyoung. 

Doyoung also said that he tried to use Taeyong’s phone but only to find out that it’s out of power. 

So he was left with no choice but to carry the guy back to his place and Taeyong almost melted, the feeling of gratitude and another one that he can’t point a finger on, overpowering his guilt and embarrassment when Doyoung mentioned how he brushed Taeyong’s teeth with his spare toothbrush, washes his face for him and tucks him into bed. 

When Doyoung finishes his story telling, he finds himself stilling his eyes on Taeyong who’s mind has probably wandered somewhere with how intense he is staring at his plate. 

“So yeah, I made out with a pretty guy and instead of sleeping with him I ended up taking care of his drunk ass.” Doyoung concludes, even when he does so, Taeyong is still yet to move and he lets him be, he lets the older guy take in all the information that was just served to him, let it wash him until Taeyong was sure that he’s balanced enough to make a statement. 

The fact that Doyoung just called him pretty doesn’t even pierce through him. 

When he finally surfaces his ocean of thoughts, he did not dare meet Doyoung’s gaze as the guilt in Taeyong’s own eyes can be seen from far away. 

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “First off, I am so sorry, Doyoung.” For a while Taeyong relishes at the sound of Doyoung’s name coming from him, too natural, like he was born to mutter it. But he reels himself back to the situation at hand before Doyoung can interrupt with another dismissive yet polite gesture. “I am, _really_. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, it’s just that— it’s just that, it’s been awhile and I don’t know what took over me. I was there with my friends but I guess they ditched me and—“ _Fuck_ , Taeyong thought, _why is he looking at me with those sparkling and kind eyes_. “Shit, I really don’t know what to say to this, I’m really sorry for the inconvenience— I’m, I don’t know what else to say than _I’m sorry_.” He finishes, defeated with the feeling of guilt but also gratitude, so he mutters a “And also, thank you, _really_.” 

As soon as the words are out of him, Taeyong thinks of vanishing instantly but he couldn’t, not until he hears Doyoung say something or else he wouldn’t be able to live with the idea that he’s been an ungrateful brat to someone as beautiful and kind and considerate as Doyoung. So Taeyong waits, eyes closed and chin touching his chest as he hangs his head down, waiting for a judgement call— he half expect’s for Doyoung to laugh at him, or even demand him for compensation of how he ruined the night even as much as to being a nuisance, but also oddly, Taeyong knows that the younger man wouldn’t do that. 

And by the sound of Doyoung humming at him, Taeyong finally lets himself look up at the person in front of him and finds an angel smiling at him. _Yes, he’s definitely melting and why not?_

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” Doyoung simply states, eyes shining with mirth. Although imperfect and quite troublesome, meeting Taeyong under the blinding and dizzying lights was a good moment only to have the latter end up on Doyoung’s bed on circumstances that he did not expect it to be— all it took for Doyoung to melt and develop the need to take care of the older boy was the sight of him pouting on the ground while he wraps his arms and legs around Doyoung’s slender leg. 

That did it for him. 

The heat that accumulated in him while being inside the club was totally drained out when Taeyong so much as whined at him, telling Doyoung incoherent words that he can’t help but smile at. 

In addition to that was the mushy feeling in his chest of the image of Taeyong being completely out of it when Doyoung sits him on the edge of his tub, moving the toothbrush with his own hand. Washing Taeyong’s face with a damp clothe, taking the remnants of makeup off from his face— what was once sharp and intimidating under the club lights with the eyeliner and eyeshadow was nothing but a protective layer over the soft skin and baby face of Taeyong. 

The undressing was totally Taeyong’s doing though, thrashing on Doyoung’s bed until he takes off the piles of clothes from his body— making Doyoung sigh in relief when Taeyong decides to leave his boxers be— before he burrows himself under Doyoung’s sheets and on Doyoung’s bed. 

Looking peaceful as he falls into slumber, leaving Doyoung with a soft heart and a smile of disbelief on his face as he pads to his couch where he finds himself on the next morning. 

It was scary, Doyoung does not believe in soulmates or fate— but one look at Taeyong’s sleeping form when Doyoung peeked into his room, made Doyoung doubt the idea. 

Even more so when Taeyong is fully awake and sitting in his kitchen. 

And out of whim, Doyoung finds himself slumping forward, face almost close enough to make Taeyong rigid on his chair. “I’m demanding for compensation, though.” He smirks. “Make up for the fun night that could have been if only you didn’t pass out on me.” 

Taeyong frowns at that. 

He really hates thinking so much during mornings, that’s why he only works on his webtoons during nights until dawn. But somehow he finds himself questioning Doyoung, “What?”

Deciding to take the blunt road, Doyoung smiles. “You owe me one for saving your drunk ass, so pay it up with a date.” 

Taeyong didn’t know where it came from considering his lack of rationality at the moment. But he says, “Yes.” to Doyoung at which the younger beams at, a surprised look on his face like he did not expect the immediate response. “I’m not saying this just to pay you though, I just really want to take you on a date.” Taeyong adds and for the nth time, he feels his neck and cheeks warm and fuzzy again. 

Perhaps his brain has been awoken, have finally surfaced from last night’s events because as soon as Taeyong have said those words, the events from last night surged through him like a dam of water breaking through his senses and drowning him with the memories. 

Doyoung’s hand on his waist, his arms on Doyoung’s wide shoulders, Doyoung’s hot breath on his cheek, _his_ hot breath on Doyoung’s neck, firm grips, skin sliding against skin, the buzz of alcohol and the sound of music mixed with the smell of sweat and Doyoung’s scent overpowering it all. _Fuck, Kim Doyoung’s lips_ — yeah, he also remembers Doyoung’s last name all of a sudden. 

Taeyong remembers how they taste, how he sounded when he moaned against Taeyong’s ear when their bodies were pressed against each other, both burning with want and seeking for touch. 

Taeyong remembers the sensation he felt, that both of them craved for and he can only imagine the frustration that Doyoung must have felt when Taeyong stupidly fainted amidst it all. 

Feeling like he’s been holding his breath through the memories that have flashed through his eyes, Taeyong takes a sharp intake of breath that made Doyoung raise an eyebrow.

“You okay?” Doyoung asks, the smile on his face slowly vanishing at Taeyong’s change of atmosphere.

“Y-yeah,” Taeyong stutters when he jumps off the stool and finds his way to Doyoung’s side, parting the younger’s legs apart to fit himself between them. With a newfound courage in him, he takes both sides of Doyoung’s neck in his hands and brings their face closer. “Yeah, more than okay.” Taeyong breathes before he slots his lips to Doyoung’s, emitting a gasp from the dark haired guy in which Taeyong took as his chance to lick inside his mouth, tasting him and relieving the feeling of Doyoung against him, completely different now that they’re both sober. 

It only lasted for a quick second though, not enough for Doyoung to process it and reciprocate until Taeyong pulls back, a smirk of his own attached on his face. “You still really taste like strawberries,” Taeyong says, a phrase that’s enough to tell Doyoung that he has remembered how he taste, how he feels like, how Taeyong got weak when they kiss in some dark corner of the club. 

That was all it took— breakfast forgotten, as they took a shortcut to making it up to Doyoung for that night’s unfortunate events. 

On the other side of the city, however— Johnny Seo grips his hair tightly that Jaehyun fears his boyfriend would go bald in one go. Both of their brains going through a series of buzz and alarm at the idea that their friend is nowhere to be found, his phone unreachable and his apartment empty. Luckily for them, Jaehyun was level headed enough to be calm for the both of them while Johnny on the other hand is in the verge of tears. 

“What if he’s been kidnapped? Jae, did we actually leave him to be kidnapped?” Johnny asks, expression horrified at the possibility of his words.

“I think I’m gonna die.” Jaehyun breathes out as he grabs his jacket. “Don’t drink coffee, I don’t need you dead when I come back here. I’m going back to the club and please call the owner, you said you know him! What was his name? _Yuto? Yuta?_ Just call him and ask to help me out when I get there.”

**Author's Note:**

> so, that was my first dotae fic!
> 
> [twt](http://twitter.com/doieyv)


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